


Tag!

by kolxhero_0



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blood and Injury, Complete, M/M, RusAme, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28704102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolxhero_0/pseuds/kolxhero_0
Summary: When America gets too bold for his own good, his pal Russia comes to put him back in his place. (Rusame)
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia)
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A short fanfiction I wrote in 2014.

America walked into the world summit, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Everyone took notice. He sat at his place at the front of the long mahogany table kicking up his feet, ankles crossed and arms folded. England glanced over to him, raising a bushy brow.

"What are you so bloody happy for?" He asked.

The other nations eyes went back to looking over the agenda for the meeting.

"Oh, you will see." America said coy.

"Uh-huh." The Brit rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

The remaining countries filed into the room filling all the seats, except for one. France made sure Canada was next to him and checked his watch. Whoever they were, was late.

"Should we begin?" Italy whispered to Germany. "It has been fifteen minutes."

"Does anyone have Russia's contact information?" Sighed the German. "Everyone needs to be present or we will have to reschedule on a later date."

England's eyes snapped over America who was biting his lip, trying to hold back laughter.

"You do not have anything to do with this, do you?" He said under his breath, making sure he was the only one that heard.

The door was slammed open, air thickening. Everyone was silent. Russia walked inside his eyes fixed to America's. His cheek was swollen and a bandage stuck to his forehead.

"Sorry I am late. When I opened the door to my room, a bucket of water fell on my head. I had to change." He tossed a waded ball of twisted metal onto the table. It rolled, resting before America.

"Is that what happened to your face?" America removed his legs and leaned in, lacing his fingers. He smirked. "You look like shit."

"No. My face was hit by a ball when I arrived last night." Russia smiled back, threateningly. "I must be having bad luck."

"Clearly." Snorted the American. "Bet your big ass head was an easy target."

The Russian chuckled and sat in the empty seat at the end of the table.

"Not as big as your mouth."

England cleared his throat.

"Since we are all in attendance, we should begin." The Englishman said, uneasy. "Time is of the essence!"

"Yeah, I think Russia has wasted enough time for all of us for one day." America stood and gathered his papers. "Thank you, Ivan."

Russia's smile disappeared.

Everyone's jaw dropped. Human names had no place in a world summit. England stood and slammed a hand down.

"Take ten everyone." He glared at America. "We will commence after a break."

The room was quickly vacated and England shut the door behind them. He turned back to America, appalled.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Nothing, just having a bit of fun." Shrugged America. "You're over reacting, jeez."

His smirk was making England's blood boil.

"If you want to start a war, leave the rest of the world out of it!"

"Whatever." America leaned back in his chair and swiveled. "I could kick that commie's ass with my eyes closed and I know I aint the only one who wants to punch him."

He was quickly spun back around. England was face to face with America, and it was difficult for the younger nation to hold back his fist.

"War is not a game, Alfred." Warned the elder country. "I am not a fan of Russia either especially not my overseer, but, do you really want to pick a fight with the Soviet Union? "

America pushed him away and got to his feet.

"I am aware, Arthur." Hissed the American, his eyes fierce. "Go give your advice to somebody who gives a fuck. Oh, and next time you get in my face, " he gathered England by the collar, "don't think I won't hesitate in kicking in your yellowed, fucked up teeth. Mate." He spoke mockingly.

"I do not even know who the hell you are anymore." Britain pulled away, shaking his head.

"I'm America." He stated, taking back his seat.

The nation's had begun to return from break, talking casual amongst themselves. That is, until Russia waltz in taking the seat previously belonging to France, directly next to America. He wore a smile that would no doubt give Italy nightmares.

"I am curious, what did your brother say?" Russia said deeply. "Did he scold you?"

America tensed and shot the Russian a hate filled glare.

"He is not my brother."

"Da, if you be saying so." He chuckled to himself. "Children sometimes need redirection."

Just as America was to attempt tearing Russia's smile off his face, Germany had taken the liberty of bringing up the first issue on the agenda. The American instead, calmly smoothed back his hair, giving Russia a complementary flash of his middle finger.

Except for its rough start, the meeting commenced smoothly. America had kept his mouth shut for the most part, which was unusual, tapping his pen as he stared at the clock. He counted down the final seconds, then, quickly scrambled out the door before England could end with a closing statement. Russia was the second to leave, nodding at the other nations before exiting. He checked his cell phone outside the door and found a message from his overseer. His eyes scanned the screen, a wicked smile spreading cross his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Cold water was splashed over America's face. He gasped, waking from his induced slumber. His hands were tethered behind his back and he sat on the floor in what appeared to be a cellar. A furnace burned adjacently in the dark room. Last thing he remembered was running for the exit after the World Summit. Blinking a few times to adjust to the poor lighting, he saw Russia looming over him. A bundle of sunflowers was clenched in his fist.

"Shit." America mumbled.

"My Lithuania sent me get well flowers." Russia said deeply. "However, it is strange. He spelled his name wrong on the card and I did not be knowing he knew of my accident."

America swallowed and sunk. He was so sure of himself Lithuania had an F in it.

"Maybe you creamed him upside the head too many times." He spat back. "You treat your slaves like shit."

"The way I treat my comrades, is none of your business."

"Is that what you call them?" The American laughed lightly. "Makes me wonder what they call you. Now, let me go."

"Ah, ah, ah, not so fast." Cooed Russia, pulling a white envelope out of his coat and tossed it at the America's feet. "I have permission."

"The American government isn't going to stand for this!" Yelled America, squirming. "I didn't do nothing!"

"You are a prisoner and being held at my embacy. It will take at least forty-eight hours to free you from our custody. I have been told you are mine til then and I can play with you as I choose. I do have slight rule, that I cannot touch your pretty face."

"You have no evidence I even did anything!"

Russia turned his back to him and walked to the blazing furnace. He tossed the flowers into the inferno. They shriveled and caught fire.

"Do I not?" The Russian lifted his hand. Betwixt his index finger and thumb, was held a small electronic device. "This belongs to you, da?"

America gulped. It was the transmitter he had planted on the bouquet. Russia had caught him red handed trying to spy on the Soviet Union.

"Nope." He lied. "Never seen that transmitter device in my life."

Shit.

"So that is what it is." Exclaimed Russia, turning it over in his palm. "That means your comrades can find us, da?" He asked.

"It transmits sound, not location, idiot."

Double shit.

The American bit his tongue. He had practically given Russia a confession on a silver fucking platter. Not only that, but, the boys on the receiving end were probably dogging on him so bad right now.

"So, they can be hearing us?" Russia looked up from the transmitter, grinning.

"Loud and clear." Said America gritting his teeth. "So, what the hell you want? Money?"

"I want to beat you to a pulp."

He spoke blunt.

It was clear the elder country was not joking. A lump had formed in America's throat. He strained a laugh.

"Come on dude. Can't you just let me go, with a warning?"

"No. I have been waiting for this far too long." Russia happily patted America on the top of the head. "Do not be worrying, it will only be hurting severely for the first ten hours or so, then your pain will numb til you are mush in my hands and not even the slightest sound can pass out of your mouth."

"You are a bastard." America sneered.

"If I ripped your tongue out, will that be breaking my overseers orders?" His big hand seized America's tie and pulled him close. "How I would love to see you choke on blood and watch it gush down your chest." Russia was becoming excited. He started tearing open the younger nation's shirt. The buttons popped off, one by one.

"Are you gay or what?" Smirked America, glaring. "Was all this just to get a peek at my sexy bod? I had the feeling you were."

Not at all humored, Russia pitched the man's nipples and twisted them sharply. America trembled and hunched his shoulders. It hurt and the Russian was relentless, nails beginning to dig into the sensitive flesh.

"Cry out, so your comrades can hear." Russia grumbled. "I will not be letting go, til then."

America chuckled, voice going slightly higher when Russia suddenly twisted the opposite direction.

"Playing with another man's tits. You really are gay, aren't you?" Grunted the American. "Explains why all your subordinates live with you, so you have easy fuck access."

Russia let go. America's injured pecks throbbed. They were swollen and turning a deep blue.

"Ow." Stated the Russian. "That looks like it may be hurting."

"Naw. You have such a womanly touch, felt good actually."

"Is that so?"

The larger nation flicked at one of America's puffy nipples. He flinched, sucking in his lips.

"Yep."

"You call me the woman, while you have begun to grow breasts along with your gut?"

"I HAVE NOT!"

Russia cupped America's man boob in his hand and gave him a condescending look. He was at least an A cup.

"Its muscle." America huffed.


	3. Chapter 3

The Russian removed his trench and tossed it towards a ladder propped against the wall. He then perched himself upon a stool, tacking up his shirt sleeves. After a few minutes of anticipation, America studied the man and snorted.

"You going to just stare at me or...what?"

"I have forty-seven hours." Shrugged Russia, "I am thinking of my options."

America laughed.

"If we were switched, you would already been half bludgeoned to death by now." He reclined his head back. The touch of the cold stone giving him goosebumps.

"That is because you are young." Russia smirked, crossing his legs. "I used to be this way too, but, nowadays tortures are rare. My subordinates know their places. However, you, on the other hand think you are my equal."

"Naw, I am better, ma'ma R."

The Russian pinned the American with his foot. The force making the concrete crack. America's head drooped, his hair shrouding his distressed expression. His boot shoved firmly into the other's gut, Russia leaned in close to his young comrade.

"Say that again?" He coaxed huskily. "Explain to me how your puny existence is greater than mother Russia?"

America grinned up at his captor.

"Cause, I am me."

With unexpected swiftness, the American kicked the stool out from under the elder nation. The larger country crashed back onto the floor. His head hit hard, knocking him unconscious. America had undone his bindings, staggering to his feet. He spat bloodied spit and bent next to the sleeping bastard.

"Forty-seven hours, uh?" The American mocked. "I think, I can work with that."

He smiled devilishly.


	4. Chapter 4

America was much faster with his prep work. He had a skill in doing things quickly, yet the quality usual was lacking. In a dusty box full of useless junk, he found treasure. His captor was now his toy.

"Wake up!" The American demanded.

Russia's eyes fluttered. He found himself bound to a ladder, his body cocooned in poorly tied rope.

"Yo!" Exclaimed America.

Over his shoulder he had slung an old broken umbrella. A rusted nail was taped to its tip, America pointed it to the Russian's face.

"What harm can you possible inflict with that?" Russia chuckled. "Though, I admire your 'hard' work."

America was not flattered and stabbed the nation through the neck. He slide the umbrella open, twirling it as he watched the old country bleed through the holes of the damaged canopy. Blood dripped down the faded material showering America as it spun.

Russia gargled, trying to speak. His eyes like daggers.

"I hate when you talk." Sighed America. "Arth-um, er, England too. He thinks I am a child!"

He yanked the handmade spear out, stabbing it through once more. This time hitting an artery. Blood gushed, saturating Russian's bonding.

Ouch, pal." The American cringed. "Good thing you cannot die from this, huh? Did you see what else I made?" He gloated proudly, stepping aside and pulling free the umbrella.

A plank laid sprawled on the ground. Gnarled nails had been crudely tacked chaotically into the wood. America slowly lowered Russia down upon them, letting him fall the last foot or so.

The Russian made a horrid yelping noise. Saying something, America could not understand.

"If you are going to speak, speak so I understand."

Cruelly, he weighed the man down with his boot, letting the nails dig into him deeper.

"What gives England any right to lecture me?!" Without a second of hesitation, he pierced through his back. "He doesn't even like you!"

"America, you are a idiot." Spat the Russian, lifting his tattered carcase from the barbaric contraption. He laughed, snapping the ladder and grasping the flabbergasted nation by the nape. "Is there no brain within that head?" Russia, enraged, slammed the youth's face into the nails grinding them against the sharp prods. "I rather take my overseers wrath than keep that pretty face you wear unharmed!"

America reached for the umbrella, jabbing his assaulter in the thigh. He managed to escape. Heavily wounded, he crawled his way towards the furnace.

The Russian growled, snapping the object from his leg in two.

"Al-almost had me!" Laughed America, cocking a smile up at him. The heat of the furnace felt on his back. 

"I will boil that smug grin."

Russia walked to him on wobbly legs, taking to his knees in front of America. The fire blazed behind the American's head, its door open and embers grazing his gory mug. However, instead of pressing the fellow nation's head into the flame, he smacked him on the shoulder, grinning.

"You know how many things on our treaty we just broke?" Sighed the Russian, taking to his feet. "Let us keep today, secret, da?"

America still sat panting on the floor.

"You're l-letting me go? After I just beat the shit out of you?" He said, not able to convince himself it was true. "...Why?"

"I like this game we play." Russia took a seat on the stool. "It is entertaining."

"What about the transmitter?"

"Oh, that?" Laughed the Russian. "When I placed the flowers into water, it fell in and broke."

"So...you lied to me?"

The American was confused.

"Da. However, before the next time we play, we should practice tying."

"Agreed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Kolxhero-0


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